Kids, drinking is wrong. But sometimes it is a necessary evil -- for example, when celebrating birthdays. And sometimes drinking leads one to fall out of one's chair, thereby bruising one's delicate derriere, although one might forget that it even happened, save for the twinges of painful reminders while sitting. Which generally occurs from the hours of 9 to 5. And oftentimes one does not sleep well after a night of imbibery, thereby ensuring that morning shall come too soon and the day shall be hellishly long. And writing is the LAST thing one wants to do, as all that type type typing disturbs the lovely silence, and also because the cursor is dizzying. Eventually one is forced to seek out flashy means of entertainment, as one has the attention span of a gnat. Behold:
One also enjoys all kinds of piggy banks, but one is especially enthralled by this piggy bank cast from a real suckling pig. One has read that piggy died of natural causes, and also that $10 from the sale of each pig shall be donated to the Humane Society. That makes one happy.
One does NOT want this table, as one is totally offended by the idea that a "Blackamoor" (foolish term courtesy of the seller... one would never be caught dead saying such things) should be forced to carry cocktails. One feels that whomever purchases this table is a bad person. Not that one is judgmental, or anything.
One's agitation is soothed by these multiracial baby hand soaps. One likes the tiny baby fist that appears to say, "Fight the power!" in tiny baby sign language.
One very much DOES want this bust of Lenin covered in traditional Czech patterns. One never realized how Lenin's facial hair makes him look uncannily Satanic, but one is entertained by his creepy visage in juxtaposition with the pretty pretty flowers.
One feels better now.